


Secondhand Smoke

by Applefall



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Addiction, Angst, M/M, Smoking, Smoking Addiction, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 04:17:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4290528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Applefall/pseuds/Applefall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sorry," he mutters as he fumbles for the cigarette pack in his jeans. He promised he'd stop, promised to get help, anything to stop smoking. Lies, lies, lies. The younger had believed him, hugged him with a smile on his face as the older made empty promises. He just won't let him know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secondhand Smoke

**Author's Note:**

> srry idk what this is. I'm tired. Enjoy.

4 hours, 32 minutes and 17 seconds since he's had his last smoke. It's not such a long time by any means but he's addicted, he can't stop. He needs the burn in his throat and he needs to exhale smoke. He needs it more than anything right now. He's stopped hating that he needs it, just accepted it.

"Sorry," he mutters as he fumbles for the cigarette pack in his jeans. He promised he'd stop, promised to get help, anything to stop smoking. Lies, lies, lies. The younger had believed him, hugged him with a smile on his face as the older made empty promises. He just won't let him know.

The tanned man curls an arm over the balcony railing and exhales smoke to the night sky, relief flooding him. It's as easy as breathing by this point, or not breathing. He never meant to become an addict to this, but it had just happened. Beyond his control, he tells himself, though he's knows it's not true. He's there for a while, losing track of time, until the sliding door squeaks open and he turns.

"Pete?" The soft voice of Patrick sounds. The twenty year old sounds confused, hurt. He looks tired and resigned when Pete turns around to face him. "Oh. I knew it." Patrick says, voice pitching up. Pete knows he's angry. He looks away when Pete takes a drag, refusing to meet his gaze. "I'm going back to bed." Patrick mumbles, retreating without another word. Pete knows he's going to go toss and turn for a while without him, but he'll fall asleep eventually.

Pete stubs out the cigarette and heads inside, feeling better and worse at the same time. He leaves the cigarette pack on the coffee table and brushes his teeth and changes before laying down next to Patrick. He's stiff, indicating he's not quite asleep. The older wraps his arms around him and he stays stiff, but doesn't protest.

They both stay silent.

/

When Pete awakens the next morning and heads to the living room, his cigarette packet is gone. Patrick doesn't look him in the eye, just sighs more than usual. The tanned man knows that Patrick knows where it is. 

"Where's my packet." It's not so much a question as it is a statement. Patrick shrugs, ocean eyes watering. "I know you know where it is." He shakes his head this time, looking away from him, as if he was disgusted by Pete.

"Good morning to you too." Patrick mutters. He's so beautiful to Pete, always has been, but his normally bright pale skin seems translucent, sickly. His eyes don't hold the shine they used to when he was around Pete. His pretty lips tug down into a frown. Pete remembers when he was bright, cheerful. Now he's tired and sad. "Good to know you care more about your cigarettes then me." He sighs, sitting on the couch and burying his face in his hands. His body doesn't shake though, so Pete knows he's not crying.

Pete stares, but says nothing. After a while, Patrick looks up, face so, so sad. "I'm sorry Pete. I can't do this anymore. I have to leave, okay? You don't care about me, you haven't said I love you in weeks and weeks." Pete's heart rate has risen and it's beating erratically. No. Patrick can't leave him alone, alone with his thoughts. He can't leave him to suffer. Even though he hasn't said the words he does love Patrick, more than anything. He can't, he can't just-

"Maybe if you get your shit together, we'll give it another try. But you're killing me. I have to leave." His beautiful boyfriend, ex boyfriend now, says gently, interrupting his thoughts. "You love the cigarettes more than me."

Pete swallows. He loves him but he needs something else more right now.

"Where are my cigarettes?"

**Author's Note:**

> Comments on what you thought would be great!


End file.
